There's nothing awkward when Johanna opens the door and greets me with a bear hug, which I eagerly return. I can smell the food already lingering in the air.

"Sie ist zu dünn," she says to Daniel while glancing at me (She's too skinny)

"I think I'm okay..." I respond while inspecting my figure.

Daniel chuckles. "Ich glaube, der Kleine hier hat Deutschunterricht genommen." (I think the little one here has been taking German classes.)

Johanna's face lights up. "Sie sprechen jetzt Deutsch?" (You speak German now?)

"Ein bisschen," I respond with a proud smile. "Ich habe Schwierigkeiten mit einigen Wörtern" (I have difficulty with some words)

"You seem to do okay, Kleiner," Daniel encourages me. "We can always help with the trickier words."

I smile and nod. The word Kleiner has not escaped me.

"Das Abendessen wird bald fertig sein. Daniel, geh mit ihr nach draußen und biete ihr einen Drink an." (Dinner will be ready soon. Daniel, take her outside and offer her a drink.)

I allow Daniel to lead me to the very familiar garden. Once outside, curiosity gets the best of me and I poke my face through the window as to see what has changed in the apartment that once upon a time I used to occupy.

The small kitchen was renovated and now has a small kitchen island with some seating. I try to peek further down to see the bedroom area, but I can't see that far because of the angle and the closed door. However, there is something that catches my attention. The wall where the dinner table used to be has a small sofa and above it a very familiar painting. The painting of a beloved cat.

"What are you doing?"

I turn around and look at Daniel, that cocks his head to the left amusedly.

"Spying. Wanted to check out the renovations."

"I can let you in so you can see without straining your neck," he hums amusedly.

I walk towards him and grab the juice glass he offers me.

"Is that the painting of your mom's cat?" I ask, walking away from the window.

"Yes, the damned cat is up there now. The dog is also somewhere in the apartment, along with other paintings."

"So container 751 no longer houses paintings?"

He rubs the back of his neck and smiles. "I still have some of them there. There are only so many walls in this building, although if it was for my mom, she would put them all up."

I look at him curiously but remain silent while taking a sip from my orange juice and looking around the garden. The patio furniture is also brand new. Although my white metal chair was uncomfortable, especially in the long nights spent writing in my notebook, its absence is noted. If it was still here, it would reassure me that nothing had changed. Although everything seemly has moved forward.

"The furniture here is also new."

"It needed a makeover." Daniel's eyes meet mine intently, as if trying to decipher my thoughts. "You don't like it?"

"No! It looks great. Love the colours." I touch the moss green coloured fabric that covers the chairs. It compliments beautifully the neat garden.

"But?"

"No buts." I say with a smile with my mind still lingering on my white chair.

"There is something you are not saying..." he probes.

"Why are your paintings up?"

Daniel seems stunned by my question. "Why shouldn't they be? You don't like them?"

I narrow my eyes, trying to decipher what he means by that. Why should my opinion matter?

"You didn't like to show them before, but now they are everywhere."

Daniel rubs his neck again. "Let's just say that things have changed since I moved to New York. I got them back on the walls. I'm actually painting again, too."

My eyes open at his disclosure. "You're painting again?"

He nods and offers me a small smile.

"Wow... that is huge." I respond.

"And I'm setting up an exhibition in Dusseldorf."

"An exhibition? Have you left WellYou?"

He shakes his head. "No. Nor have any intentions to do so. I've spoken to Lukas and Jonathan about it. It won't interfere with my work."

"Jonathan?"

"Our new business partner. The investor..."

"Oh, right... I guess it means WellYou is doing really well?"

Daniel smiles brightly. "Better than we expected. We are even talking about further expansion and might mean other offices opening soon."

I offer a small smile, but honestly, my mind swirls. When we fought, it was about pursuing my dreams and his relentless view that dreams don't pay bills. We were in sync with almost everything else except this. It was what broke us. Not New York or London. But, our inability to see the purpose of life in the same way.

And here we stand. With Daniel painting again. Reconciling his practical stance in life with his talent. I feel a pang of hurt cursing through me. For everything we lost and for everything she has gained. The woman I dare not speak of. The woman that fixed their problems and ours.

"Hey, you're okay?" Daniel scrutinises my eyes that linger on the tabletop.

"Good" is all I can muster.

"How is work? Are you writing?"

I sit at the table. "Mostly reading. I wrote one book and gave it to my manager. She saw potential and was kind but also offered me a LOT of criticism." I look at the juice glass in my hands. "I guess talent evades me..."

"Bullshit," Daniel responds. "You're incredibly talented." He sits next to me. "You know what was the first thing that the gallery told me when I showed my portfolio of work?"

I shake my head. Daniel gives me a knowing smile.

"Too much colour?"

He chuckles and nods. "They saw the potential but criticised my work. Still do. I'm working on perfecting it. Every day."

I stand still without words. Where was this belief in himself when we were together? When I tried to push him to believe in his talent. To steer him back to his passion? I slump and lower my eyes towards the rose bushes on the left.

"Did I say something wrong?"

I shake my head but refuse to look back at him.

"Nat..." he uses my pet name.

The only other person I ever allowed to use it apart from mom. To the world, I'm Natalie, except to them.

"Please don't do that..." his voice pleads.

I glare at him. I'm angry that he's moved on. That he has found himself. And that I've had nothing to do with it. It was all Ava. The person he truly belongs with. While gazing at his crystal clear blue eyes, I see the unwavering truth in front of me. I was a placeholder for their troubles.

"I should help your mother..." I get up and rush towards the kitchen, avoiding any further conversations with the man that holds my heart in his hands.

Dinner is quiet with polite conversation around my job, life in London, and my mother. When dinner ends, I feel relief to leave the home that brings some many comforting and happy memories. My brain just wishes that time travel was possible so I could fast forward the rest of the days in Germany and go back to my safety blanket of the Londoner life.

I give Daniel's mom a warm hug when I leave. Tears prickle my eyes. I'm certain this is the last time we'll see each other. I wave goodbye and allow Daniel to drive me back home.

The car ride is equally silent, with only the sound of the radio interrupting it. I can feel his gaze on me while driving the car. Daniel makes polite comments and asks questions, but these are hollow. When he parks the car outside the Airbnb, I see the lights are on.

"George has arrived," I announce.

I look at the house. The moment I leave this car, it will spell the end. The closure I seek. But I need to learn to move on from him. And that seems to be the impossible task my heart refuses to work on.

"I'll be on the boat tomorrow at ten to help."

Daniel hums and stares ahead. I open the car door.

"Thank you for coming for dinner tonight."

I look up at Daniel and see him staring back at me.

"It meant a lot to... my parents to see you again."

I nod. "It was great to see them, too." I turn around and stretch the door open and put my right leg outside the vehicle.

"Kleiner?" Daniel whispers.

I look again at him and see him staring at the wheel.

"Yes?" I ask softly.

"Nothing..." he exhales. "See you tomorrow on the boat."

I nod and beeline out of the vehicle and run as quickly as I can towards the door with tears streaming down my face. I can hear the screech of the accelerator speeding down the street, and I know he's gone. I open the door and lean at the door, losing all my strength.

"Hey! There you are!" George's cheerful voice greets me, but his face falters when he looks at me.

I shrug and allow tears to run down my face. George envelopes me in a protective hug.

"Why can't I just let him go?" I ask him in between sobs. "I want to move on from him..."

"You will..." he whispers and cradles me. "You will..."